Archive: Oct 2013

About a month ago we were invited to come along on a trip to Perugia during the Eurochocolate Festival. More chocolate? Yes, not on purpose though. We didn’t realize until later that we had planned a weekend in Belgium, leader in all things chocolate, followed by a day in Perugia, the Italian leader in chocolate, during Europe’s largest chocolate festival. So yeah, just consider this chocolate week on the blog. There is far more to Perugia than chocolate. First of all, it’s gorgeous and one of the famous hill towns of Italy. Perched on a steep hill in Umbria, with sweeping views overlooking green valleys and purple mountains, the panorama is utterly breathtaking. Second, the art, architecture, and history are probably the reasons you have heard of Perugia. This city is ancient in the truest of terms, its roots coming not from Romans but from the Etruscans. You can still find arches, massive wells, and city walls that were all built and engineered by the Etruscans and still function today. The Fontana Maggiore, a massive pre-Renaissance marble fountain, has been impressing crowds for over seven centuries. Perugino (Pietro Vannucci) painted and frescoed half the town, and taught the likes of Raphael how it’s done. The city itself is an interesting mix of ancient, medieval, and renaissance architecture. This is the result of Emperor Octavian razing it for supporting the Senate, then the Ostrogoths razed it in the 500s for resisting, then Pope Paul III razed half the medieval center in the 1500s and erected a citadel to keep the Perugians in line and stop waging war. Later the French conquered it, then the Austrians, and eventually they laid down their weapons and joined the Kingdom of Italy, when they enthusiastically took down the Pope’s Citadel, a symbol of oppression, brick by brick.

Fontana Maggiore

Third, it’s less than a few hours away by road, also accessible by train, and right smack in the middle of Italy. So really, whether you’re in Florence or Rome, there is no excuse not to visit. It’s not far and the journey through the valleys, hills and mountains, with castle tipped towns, and sheep dotted fields, is a destination of its own. So there’s that, but we were also there for the Eurochocolate Festival, as I mentioned earlier, the largest chocolate festival in Europe, with roughly one million visitors a year during the week it’s held. As Texas State Fair veterans, we considered ourselves trained and ready to handle any carnival crowd. We failed to take into account that this isn’t Texas, or any other US state, this is Italy, and they do things their own way. Our group stepped off the automated mini-metro to meet our somewhat frazzled guide, who was supposed to show us the best of the festival and give us an overview of the city itself. She was a very nice lady, but I think she was expecting a group at least half our size, and her voice couldn’t carry over the crowd. Did I mention it was crowded? Most of our group broke apart from the tour, partly because it was impossible to stay together in the crowds, and partly because our guide seemed at a loss with us after two destinations. Not that I entirely blame her, she had to repeat everything she said multiple times, and we had a lot of questions. But she did give us the basics. When visiting Eurochocolate, you need to go to one of the red booths and get a EuroChocolate Card for five euro. You take this card and the map it comes with to five locations around the festival where you get a chocolate bar, a thimble of Baileys, bizarrely some Ricola drops, and other items. This also takes you around the festival along the wider streets of the city center. This sounds easy enough, but you must take into account that we are in a different culture, and there are some norms that we are not used to. When it comes to getting in line, for example, it seems the primary school system has failed the entire country. No one is going to wait patiently behind you for their turn. If you leave any room between you and counter, someone will wedge their way in front of you without any acknowledgment. After many frustrating attempts at doing it our way, we finally decided to copy their strategy, which is to find a space, no matter how small, along the counter, press your body firmly to the front, lean forward, and make aggressive eye contact and/or shout. I am not an insistent person. Pushing my way in front and demanding to be served is stepping very far outside my comfort zone, so after we got a few samples, we took a break from the booths and went in search of actual food. We didn’t hunt long before we found a Porchetta stand. It seems that in assembly situations, like booths where you pay first and then receive your food, the rule of waiting your turn in line is followed. Only one couple got in front of us in the eighteen inches of space between us and the next person. Porchetta is sliced roasted pork seasoned with rosemary in this case, and either served by the pound or on a fresh roll. Desperate for something savory, we grabbed a few rolls, some water and sat on some church steps to enjoy our find. Afterwards we dove back in, the sounds of the peppy over-mixed festival theme song vibrating in our ears… “Chaa-co-la-tay! Chaa-co-la-tay! You say choco, I say late. Choco! Late! Choco! Late! Chaa-co-la-tay! Chaa-co-la-tay! Don’t you want to buy some chocolate? Choco-choco-choco-chocolate. Chaa-co-la-tay! Chaa-co-la-tay!…” and it went on and on at full blast. If somehow a director for the festival comes across this, hear my appeal: Get rid of that song, we are there to buy chocolate, your song makes me hate chocolate. The festival was at a disadvantage though. We had been in Brussels just four days earlier visiting chocolate at its best in posh roomy salons. We were just too fresh off that experience to find this to be anything other than thinly veiled chaos. But I did discover one Italian confection that will forever be in my heart.

Cremino

I’m not sure exactly what Cremino is, I got some because it reminded me of peanut butter cups. It doesn’t taste like peanut butter at all though. It’s kind of like a creamy fudge/nutella/ganache hybrid, and it’s absolutely dreamy. Every booth had at least one pyramid of these, so it must be popular. Though kitschy, there was also more to the festival than just a series of booths. We came across steel drum performances, chocolate themed street performers, and even a gigantic chocolate sculpture of Italy and its main tourist attractions. I had to snap of few pictures, the nudes in the south made me laugh inappropriately. By mid-afternoon the crowds began to swell further so we surrendered and withdrew to the side streets, specifically Via Priori, off of the main Via Vannucci. Most people walked right past this tiny shaded street without a second glance. But after the struggle of the last several hours, we were relieved, this we could do. Lined with small cafes and stands selling local honey, pottery, cured meats, and cheeses, the street was like an adorable little mini-market with no shoving.

Via Priori

We strolled this for a while, checked out some pottery and some honey, grabbed a square of pizza, and gawked at the other picture perfect little lanes that sprang from Via Priori. Mentally done with the festival we made our way to less crowded squares, and eventually we came across an Etruscan Well. Interesting on its own, but what is unique about this well is not necessarily its size, which is huge, but the fact that for just a few euros you can climb inside it, and see some two thousand plus year old handiwork yourself. Always hardcore nerds about this kind of thing, we paid the toll and made our descent. If you ever come across this well and want to go inside, wear close toed shoes, actually wear something waterproof. There are deep puddles all down the several flights of stairs. After you reach the bottom of the stairs, you are presented with a metal and wood bridge suspended over a very long drop. The light is dim from a small light overhead, the air is soggy, and all around you is the dripping and tinkling of tiny streams dropping over a hundred feet into the pool below. For us it was neat.

The Bridge in the well, sorry, I forgot to use the flash.

After our little adventure, we made our way back to the surface, skirted the crowds, and made our way back to where we started. The view was still the best part for us, so we did as the students did and sat on the lawn to soak it up before we had to go. We really liked Perugia and want to go again when we don’t have to fight our way towards the sights. There is so much to do there that we didn’t get to see. The EuroChocolate Festival I would personally pass on, at least on a weekend. Maybe a Tuesday. If you do go to Perugia, go for the view, go for the history, go for the art, and go for the chocolate (that actually is a thing there), grab a porchetta, find a cremino, and send me a postcard.

I never thought I would have the opportunity to visit Bruges, or Belgium at all. It’s one of those places that you look at and think “Isn’t that wonderful….but is it worth thousands in airfare and a week of jetlag……maybe if we tack it onto a larger trip when we’re senior citizens…maybe.” Realistically, I just hoped I would see Bruges one day, or someone would bring me back a magnet.

I had grand plans for Bruges. We would arrive around 11am, from one of the very convenient trains that leaves every half hour from Brussels. We would forego the bus, and take our time finding a place to have lunch. Then we would take a look at one of the medieval churches. After that we would take a tour and tasting of the last operating brewery in Bruges and then maybe stay a while in their beer garden. From there we would make our way to the Markt, the city center, and browse a museum or two, have some frites/chocolate/waffles/beer and people watch. Full from our snack we would walk around the corner to the canal boats, where we would see Bruges from the water, and through some of its many canals. Like Venice this is the only way to see a lot of the city. Then we would explore, find those tiny secret squares and ivy covered bridges, maybe go see the windmills right outside the city walls. Around six we would make our way back to the train station (last train leaves at seven), and take the long way along Minnewater, with its locks, bridges, towers, and willow trees. And then I would have been satisfied that we had seen Bruges, didn’t rush, made memories, and had a lovely time.

It didn’t happen like that, but that’s okay.

I’ll admit that I may have over-estimated the fairytale just a bit, and I definitely didn’t realize that fall in northern Belgium was code for Baltic hurricane season…but I can’t stay mad, it’s so cute it looks like it belongs in a snow globe.

Fellow soaked tourists taking in the sights at the Markt.

From the train station we walked, heads down, umbrella forward, towards the city center through perfectly adorable cobbled streets lined with stone cottages. Though the heads down strategy was essential to avoid getting power washed, it didn’t help our navigation purposes. Like most old cities, the streets change name frequently and signs aren’t always easy to find. Because of this we got lost, and ended up not far, but away from where we were planning to go. When we came upon a row of restaurants we leapt inside and took a seat beside the fireplace, ordered beer, frites, and croque monsieurs, and decided to change tactics.

Simple lunch, but at the time it was food of the gods.

The new angle was to try and navigate Bruges as best we could, with frequent warm-up stops in various pubs and cafes. Things such as the cruise, and outdoor photo extravaganzas were officially (and painfully) off the list. But we were still pleased with ourselves. The weather was winning, but between gusts, we would look up and see the “Venice of the North.”

After a stop for a scarf, then a stop for gloves, then a stop for dry socks, we made it to the Markt, the center of Bruges. With the soaring medieval Belfry and spired Provincial Court, we felt like our efforts were worth it.

Per the new plan, we ducked into several cafés to warm up and snack. Every one we went to was cozy and quaint. All of them had a warm fire, hot drinks, and views to die for.

Since it was Sunday a lot of the churches had limited access, and since the weather was not cooperating we didn’t want to zig zag across town to see other sights, so we were happy to stick to the city center. Around the Markt there are many museums and places to see, but most of them aren’t well marked (get it, not well marked at the Markt…), and since our navigation skills for the day had proven poor, we headed toward the big colorful banners. We noticed the Belfry was showcasing a Salvador Dali exhibit, which sounded nice, but didn’t feel very Belgium. And there was this other place called the Historium, which we thought was an odd name for museum, so we headed that direction.

We had no idea what we were walking into, and truth be told if I had read an online description of it, we probably would have avoided it. We entered, a dark ornate building, where immediately to your right is a two story dark hooded figure in a red cloak looming over us from the grand staircase. We were definitely having a WTF moment, and trying to figure out what we had stepped into. We walked further into the building, where an employee explained to us in perfect English that it was a “Multi-Sense Experience” where you re-live Bruges in its golden age, and walk through an eventful day in the life of one of Jan Van Eyck’s apprentices. Our expectations were low, but it was warm and dry and cost less than sitting at another café so we queued up and got our English headsets.

After entering the first room, we were pleasantly surprised. The tour takes you through about eight or nine rooms. Each room is staged to fit the scene in the film from lighting to scents, to props, so it feels like you are standing in the story. One room smelled like spices, another was pitch black with a starry night sky, another was snowing. And the film was actually good, nuanced and sophisticated, with digitally enhanced scenes through ancient Bruges at its best. It’s a little bit Universal Studios meets Girl with a Pearl Earring, but it’s fun. If you find yourself in Bruges during bad weather, definitely check this out. Better yet, if you find yourself in Bruges at all, check this out.

After the end of the film you’re lead through a history of Bruges, with a few artifacts, and interesting displays. Then you exit the museum through a bar.

The bar was surprisingly well priced, with a fantastic view overlooking the Markt from the second or third story, and with a modern stained glass ceiling. We decided to plant ourselves right there and have one, maybe two glasses of Duvel. This was one of the highlights of the trip, we’d come again if we had the chance.

About the time the museums closed, the tourists were leaving and the rain was finally starting to let up. But the damage had been done. Strewn everywhere like fallen soldiers were broken umbrellas.

The casualties of Bruges.

Thankfully my umbrella made it, partly because I was holding it down while I was using it to shield myself, and partly because I invested in a good umbrella. My husband also got points for remembering to pack his rain jacket, I didn’t remember to do that, but a rain jacket would have been wonderful. Infact, if anyone actually reads this and walks away with any tips from this dribble remember this: Buy a good umbrella or raincoat if you are visiting any part of Europe after August. You’re welcome.

Our trip was winding down, and the weather was finally letting up, so we made our way slowly to the train station, taking in Bruges now that we could finally look up.

Loopy and triumphant we were almost to the station when I remembered that there was one open sight that we could see on our way back. We took a short detour to Minnewater Park, and it did not disappoint. The lake is not big, but it’s perfectly manicured with tall willow trees, green lawns, ornate buildings, watch towers, swans, and bridges. (I didn’t get any good pictures because the horizontal rain had started again.) The wiser and dryer tourists had left, so we mostly had it to ourselves. So we continued to stroll the lake and ended up at watchtower bridge.

According to my Bruges App: “The tragic romance of Minna and her warrior love Stromberg has evolved into local legend saying that you will experience eternal love if you walk over the lake bridge with your partner.” Interesting, but what makes it tragic? Well…according to legend Minna was a fisherman’s daughter who refused an arranged marriage because she was in love with Stromberg, a warrior. She fled the city over the bridge and hid in the woods. Stromberg returned from battle and found her before she died in his arms. This is a depressing story to cross a bridge to, but we figured why not, never hurts to hedge your bets with a little bit of superstition. So we crossed the bridge. And what did we find on the other end at this lake famed for its bevy of swans?

A chicken. Sensibly taking cover underneath a park bench. (Note that there were no other farm animals anywhere else nearby.) He was a good sport and posed for pictures. I’m not sure if there is any significant symbolism behind the chicken, or even if foreshadowing takes place outside of novels, but we decided this was a good place to end our trip.

Like Brussels, I hope we get another shot at Bruges, we really liked it. But if we never do, I’m still satisfied that we have seen Bruges, made memories, and had a lovely time. If you get the opportunity, go!

Chocolate, Beer, Canals, Waffles, Spires, Frites, and Smurfs! All of these are excellent reasons to go see Belgium. Add to that a sale on airfare, and an almost-off-season discount on our hotel, and we were sold. Making our first out-of-italy excursion last week a 3 day damp weekend in Brussels and Bruges, and we loved it!

Grand Place, Brussels, Belgium Panorama

To keep this post less than novel length, I decided to post about Brussels first, and give Bruges its own post. In my initial research I was surprised to find that so many people recommended skipping Brussels or just doing a two-hour stop-over to see Grand Place and Mannequin Pis. This is a mistake. While my initial impression/panic when entering the city was “this kind of looks like Baltimore,” we found that compared to its neighbors – Paris, London, and Amsterdam – Brussels is kind of a wallflower at first glance. But don’t be fooled, with a small bit of effort the city reveals itself to be a quirky, gorgeous, friendly and delicious.

Touristy Parts of Brussels

That being said, is it touristy? Yes, but so are most large cities worth seeing. There are bursts now and then of almost comical gaudiness meant to attract tourists, just walk past them, they pass, and then you find yourself back in baroque clad winding alleys and over-the-top decadent squares.

Le Meridien, Brussels

For both nights, we stayed at Le Meridien right at Centraal Station, and next to Grand Place. I don’t usually rave about our hotel rooms, I’m happy as long as they’re clean, comfortable, and in a good location. But the bed, the BED! Maybe it’s because we’ve been sleeping on prison style temporary furniture for the past few weeks, or maybe it’s because the pillows it came with are two inches thick, and probably made out of recycled bottles, but this bed made up for all of our suffering. It felt like sleeping on a layer of angel feathers piled on a cloud, wrapped in sateen – not exaggerating. I don’t even think I dreamed, just passed out in the kind of heavy slumber so deep that it took me a moment to remember where I was and how long I’d been there the next morning. I wanted to get tips from the maid.

The show stopper in Brussels is Grand Place. (pronounced grond plass or Grote Markt in dutch) I dare you to stand in this square and be under-whelmed or jaded by this place, the scale and detail dedicated here compel many to call it the most beautiful in Europe. At this point, I can’t say I disagree. Surrounded by the town hall and ornate guild halls, the square has been the focus of the city for 800 years. Today it is the museum and cultural center and something you can’t help but slow down and marvel at. We took every opportunity to cross the square, snapped hundreds of pictures, and every time we saw something new. I especially recommend taking a night stroll through the area, even if it’s raining like it was for us. By then, the 2-hour tourists have left, the square is softly lit and it feels like you have it to yourself.

Manneken Pis

Follow the tiny streets along Grand Place and it will take you many different directions. One street, several blocks away will take you to Manneken Pis. Oddly, this tiny nude sculpture is the other “must-see” destination in Brussels. I’ll admit, he is kind of cute. No more than two feet tall, he balances at least seven feet up, urinating into a small fountain. There are several legends about lost boys being found urinating into ponds and grateful parents dedicating statues in honor of the found child, and two year old dukes relieving themselves on their troops before battle. But the most entertaining one is of a boy spying a foreign power placing explosives at the city walls, when the soldiers went to take cover, the boy urinated on the fuses, thus saving the city. There are many more legends and a thorough history of the statue being stolen and retrieved multiple times over its nearly 400 year old history. But in typical European fashion, most of the crowds are there to see what he’s wearing today. That’s right, for hundreds of years, he’s dressed up at least 3 times a week to much fanfare and even brass band music. He has over 300 outfits, there’s a committee that votes on what he wears, and what his new outfits will be. I have no idea what he was wearing when we saw him, some sort of black cap, with a white jacket and sash in Belgian colors.

Passage Saint-Hubert

Continue down other streets from Grand Place and you’re sure to run into Passage Saint-Hubert. A covered gallery of shops and hundred year old theaters and cinemas, it’s an excellent place to escape the wind and rain that often plagues most of Belgium, sit in at a café and people watch. But one of the best reasons to visit is the chocolate! (this is where the snacking part begins, I warned you.)

I would say every 3rd shop in Brussels is chocolate oriented. They are so prevalent in the city center that the streets actually smell of cocoa and butter, really. I love chocolate, and I’ll admit that my sweet tooth is shameful, but with at least fifty or so chocolate shops within a quarter mile radius, not even I can sample that much chocolate. So we had to be picky. We had to be prepared. After an intensive google search, it was decided that we would only visit Pierre Marcolini, Wittamer, Neuhaus, Mary, and Galler. Willy Wonka has nothing on these guys. Just walking into the shops is an experience, with macarons of every color, truffles and tablets, crème cups and cordials, stacks of pralines, rows of ganache, it was borderline overwhelming. The air contained calories, it was pure sin. We must have over-estimated our prowess because we only made it to two of these. We got the Praline sampler at Pierre Marcolini that was just as beautiful as it was delicious, and the international selection from Neuhaus (I still think about the smoky caramel flavor from Shang Hai, and the praline with pop rocks from Madrid, infact, all nine flavors are amazing, go get one.) Check out their websites, I highly recommend anything from any of them.

Sometimes I plan trips without a hitch, sometimes there are many hitches. Since we were in town Saturday through Monday, with museums closed Monday, and our Bruges trip on Sunday, we only had a few precious hours to spend in one of the many unique museums in Brussels. I really wanted to see the Magritte Museum, and the lovely home of famed architect Victor Horta, but what we really had to see while in Brussels was the The Belgian Comic Strip Center. Proudly the producers of household names like The Smurfs and Tin-Tin, comics are to Brussels as Disney is to Orlando. To make the decision even easier, the museum is held in one of the finest and earliest examples of Art Nouveau architecture. Win.

This museum is not really geared towards children (though kids like it), but rather adults who appreciate comics not only for their nostalgia but their artistic appeal. I thought we would spend about thirty minutes to an hour doing a walk-through, maybe buy a souvenir in the gift shop and then go about our day. But we shut the place down. The museum is curated and staged very well, you don’t feel crowded or over-whelmed, and it doesn’t take itself too seriously. We liked this place. I would recommend it to anyone.

However, you don’t have to go to the Comic Strip Museum to experience comic art in Brussels, it’s everywhere! Street signs are manipulated to look like Tin-Tin, ten foot Smurfs sit outside Centraal Station, and there are giant cartoonish murals and statues every few blocks. You can’t help but admire the sense of humor, and the color they bring to an otherwise grey day. We even saw a man who at first glance we thought was a strange man in black face. When we got closer, we realized he was in full costume, dressed as a black Smurf, with a sign in French around his neck. (That’s right, this Belgian was protesting in fancy dress. I will forever regret not taking his picture so I could find out what the sign said.) We asked one of the museum employees what the story was behind the black Smurf, and he replied “Don’t worry, it’s Brussels, he’s just crazy.”

Our last day, the museums were closed and we had about six hours to kill before we had to board the bus to the airport. So we checked our bags at the concierge and went in search of the perfect Belgian waffle.

Almost as widespread as the chocolate shops; waffles stands, waffle shops, waffle cookies, and waffle irons are everywhere. It’s another element that makes Brussels smell like cake, but it also makes it hard to distinguish between who is using bisquick and who is making genuine Belgian waffles. There is also added confusion because there are two types of waffles, there are Brussels and Liege waffles. Brussels waffles are made from a thin batter and bake-up very light, Liege waffles are made from a dough with sugar that caramelizes when it’s baked, making it sweet and more solid.

I’d like to say that we’re cool enough to stumble upon an icon as esteemed and understated as Maison Dandoy, but the truth is I had lots of pointers from tripadvisor and just about every other Brussels travel reference saying that this is one of the best places for waffles, with hands down the best atmosphere. We only had one shot at this so we went with their advice. We crossed Grand Place and found ourselves in the second story of the adorable Maison Dandoy, looking down upon neat displays of Speculoos (think if gingerbread and shortbread had a superior child) and shortbread on the first floor. I ordered a simple cappuccino and was surprised to be served a coffee confection complete with whip cream and chocolate shavings. It was good, just not what I was expecting. For waffles I went with the “Natural” Brussels waffle with a side of whip cream. My husband chose the Brussels waffle, with cherries, ice cream, and whip cream on the side. Both were amazing. The waffle itself was feather light on the inside, lightly flakey on the outside, cakey but not sweet. Even my whip cream was inspired, with a touch of fresh vanilla bean, something I will always do in the future. If you come to Brussels, you must sit where I sat at Maison Dandoy and eat a Brussels waffle, you must.

Our waffle excursion took maybe an hour. So we continued doing what we had been doing for most of trip, but I haven’t mentioned until now. Sampling what Belgium is best at: Beer.

My husband is the beer connoisseur, not me. I was scarred in high school and college by Natty Lite and Pabst Blue Ribbon. So I drank my trashcan punch at parties, tolerated Bud Light, and acquired my taste for wine. It wasn’t until sometime later that my husband introduced me to Belgian style beers. They were smooth, complex, fruity, and strong. I was impressed. Drinking Belgian beer was also one of the main reasons we booked this trip to begin with. And drink beer we did.

We had the staples, like Duvel, Delirium, and Maredsous, all of them different and so good. We also had selections made by the Trappist monks like Chimay and Rochefort, which were dark, sweet and strong. We tried Gueuze, unique to the Brussels region, which was dry and almost metallic, I wasn’t sure I could drink it, but it grew on me. And we tried Lambic fruit beers, like Kriek and Framboise. As I said before, I’m not a beer person, so I didn’t know that Belgian fruit beers existed. This was obviously a disservice to my taste buds and sadly I didn’t discover it until Monday afternoon. So I tried to make up for it by drinking strawberry (aardbei), raspberry (framboise), and sour cherry (kreik). Basically I drank pink beer for the rest of the day, and life was good. There were other excellent beers at restaurants and cafes, but I wasn’t taking notes. (No, I did not have over 9 beers in one afternoon, we did this over 3 days, and often just a sip of one another’s glass. Belgian beer is stronger than American beer, so keep that in mind.)

Even if you aren’t a beer drinker, order something else and enjoy the ambiance. Many of these bars/pubs are lovely. Our favorite was A La Mort Subite (translates to “The Sudden Death”, a game that was popular at the time it was established.) Owned by the same family for about 90 years, it’s a place where business men, college students, and little old ladies hang out. It still has the original décor from the 1920s. Our stout waiter was very friendly and with his rolled up sleeves, bow tie, bald head, and guttural French, he fit his surroundings perfectly. In a way it reminded me of Paris, but it was still uniquely Brussels. I could have spent all day in there with my Framboise.

Tipsy, damp from near constant rain, poorer from last minute chocolate and lace purchases, and satisfied that we did what could in two and half days in Belgium, we headed for the bus that would take us to the airport. A little confused as to where to buy tickets for the bus, we asked a shuttle driver. Overhearing, one of his passengers handed us valid unused tickets for free that they weren’t going to use. Then the shuttle salesman snatched them from us and told us to use the shuttle not the bus, and wouldn’t give us back our free tickets, even the driver thought this was uncalled for. We decided that the universe would reward him in its own way, obviously we didn’t buy shuttle tickets, and went to get bus tickets. We made a plan to buy tickets directly from the bus driver if possible, meanwhile the shuttle salesman, whose job it is to flip bus travelers into shuttle travelers, asked us when our flight was and grudgingly handed us back our stolen tickets. So in the end we saved 34 euro with our free tickets, thank you, British strangers who gave them to us.

In summary, we loved our time in Brussels. We want to go back and do the things we didn’t have time to do. Like the Art Nouveau Walk, The Comic Strip Walk, tour the antiques and chocolate shops of the Sablon, sample more Frites, try more hardy Belgian food, see the Magritte Museum, see the Palace, find Westvletteren (a beer I really wanted to try), get a look at the European Union, etc. Again, we would like to thank our lucky stars for allowing us the opportunity to see places like this so easily. If you have the opportunity, please go, and don’t be a two-hour tourist, walk around and enjoy it!

I’m no chef. I like to think I’m capable now and then. Sometimes, usually after watching Food Network, I walk cockily into my kitchen and think I can conquer any dish. The results are sometimes okay, and often times disastrous. What is squishy should have caramelized, what is grainy should have been fluffy, what is under and overcooked should have been al dente.

Without a Chipotle or Whole Foods in sight, and with the typical cost of dining out running from around 50 – 100 euros for two people, there is no escaping it. I must become a better cook or we’ll be eating sandwiches for the next two years… or starve. (too dramatic?)

But all is not lost. I am in the land of good, fresh food. And even better, thanks to the world wide web, I’ve discovered a few blogs that are helping me navigate the corner stones of Roman cuisine. One in particular, Rachel Eats, is my current favorite. I recommend it to anyone who has an interest in authentic Italian cooking. Her blog’s intent is to write about recipes, but I also love that she includes the stories behind the recipes. Where she got them, what inspired her, who makes the best, where they come from, etc. For a novice like myself this is invaluable information.

So I started with the basics, a dish with few ingredients that are hard to mess up, Spaghetti al Pomodoro. She posted it because a chef friend of hers said he would gladly eat it every day for the rest of his life. Nice endorsement.

One of the things I like most about my new lifestyle is access to extremely fresh, and often lovely ingredients. Don’t be surprised if you see me post a still life painting of a tomato in the near future, I’m that enamored.

First you fry the crushed garlic cloves in a lot of olive oil, then you add the halved plum or cherry tomatoes and salt to simmer while the pasta is boiling. After a few minutes, you squish them with the back of your spoon (wear an apron). I think I waited too long on this, mine were very squishy.

Add torn fresh basil and stir. When the pasta is al dente, scoop the pasta, undrained to the sauce and stir. Apparently salted pasta water is important, it helps the sauce stick to the pasta.

Serve.

When it was time to taste I was a little apprehensive. “This might break me,” I thought. Another culinary disaster could sentence us to crackers and cheese for a while. But it was good! Light, fresh, and still with a lot of flavor. And it was easy too! I’ve started a habit of making it about once a week for lunch. Rachel suggested eating this with ricotta on the side, but we opted for a grating of parmesan.

If you’re interested in this recipe, check out Rachel’s website here, she does a much better job describing it than me and has much better pictures of how it should be done.

Obviously, I can’t have a blog about Rome without showing some pictures of the Colosseum. This was one of our first trips outside of our neighborhood when we first got here. We did this on a weekend between errands which at the time were endless, so we limited ourselves to just this one site.

A few pieces of advice: When visiting one of the “7 New Wonders of the World”, especially on a weekend, expect crowds and a price tag. I think we paid about 16 euros a person. Steep, but to us it’s just one of those things you want to see for yourself. Also, the weather was forecasted to be sunny and “75 degrees” with a light breeze. When viewed from an iphone screen, it sounded perfect, almost chilly, so we wore jeans, and I even wore a top with ¾ sleeves. At this point I had not been fully introduced to the Italian September sun. IT WAS HOT in the sunshine, and a very refreshing 75 degrees in the shade. Lesson learned, the Roman sun is intense, always wear sunscreen.

It’s hard for my inner (outer?) nerd not to get pumped when standing in the same place that ancient Romans used to hold gladiatorial contests and mock naval battles to keep the mob happy. It can be hard to picture beyond the rubble. Earthquakes, pillaging, and multiple uses throughout its nearly two thousand year history have wiped out half the walls, the seating, and most notably the stadium floor. So a bit of imagination is required.

But I dare you not to be fascinated by bricks and marble that still show the tool marks from where builders placed them between 60-80 A.D., still standing, basically, where they have for almost two millennia.

I snapped this picture of a pigeon on the top of an ancient Corinthian column capital, one of the hundreds just lying around. If I were a pigeon in Rome, I’d probably hang out here too.

Over ten years ago, I took a tour of Italy with my mother and grandmother. We started in Venice, had to skip Florence because of a train strike, spent a day and night in Pompeii-Sorrento-Naples, but we spent about half of the trip in Rome. I don’t want to be cliché and call it the Eternal City, but if I left Dallas for ten years and came back there would most likely be some drastic changes. But walking through the ancient streets of Rome…storefronts have shuffled, gelato flavors change, but the ancient streets and piazzas are exactly as they have been for centuries (maybe not the graffiti).

My husband, poor man, had seen none of this except for a very quick detour to the Colosseum between errands. Since he works regular hours during the week, we had to put off our first big Rome site seeing tour together until last weekend so we could stroll properly at our own pace and not frantically after work. One of the many things I love about this place is how easy it is to walk from one masterpiece to another, and stumble upon unexpected ones along the way. Keeping this in mind we decided a nice lazy afternoon of eating, walking and gawking would be Campo de Fiori, to Piazza Navona, to the Pantheon, ending in the Trevi Fountain. My new favorite walk.

Don’t use this map for directions, there are many tiny streets that change names frequently and YOU WILL get lost. Ask me if you want detailed directions and I will be happy to give them.

This can be done in less than a few hours if you’re short on time. It took us about five because we had a nearly three hour lunch (not unusual) and we didn’t feel like rushing.

Stop 1: CAMPO DE FIORI

Campo de Fiori

Compared to other piazzas, Campo de Fiori has a humble past. Literally “Meadow of Flowers”, until Medieval times, it was just a flowering flood plain. Around the 13th century, buildings starting popping up and the streets around the Campo became centers for tradesmen. The streets surrounding the piazza are named after the trades that once occupied them. My favorite is Via dei Balestrari (Crossbow Makers). The square was also a horse trading market, part of the Pope’s Road, and the scene of executions.

Giordano Bruno

Which brings me to this guy. So, who is the creepy hooded figure in the middle of the square? According to Wikipedia, Friar Giordano Bruno. Around 1600, he had the gall to defy the Catholic Church by publishing a work that basically declared the Sun just a star, not the center of the universe, and he went on to say it’s possible that there are other planets with life on them. For this, he was burned at the stake in this very spot. Two hundred and fifty years later he was proven right, and they erected a statue of him where he defiantly faces the Vatican. Tragic stuff, but my husband loves Astronomy and I love history so we totally geeked out over this.

Today Campo de Fiori is much more laid back. Monday – Saturday the center of the piazza hosts a market, where you can find fresh produce, spices, olive oil, flowers, musicians, leather, and “Ciao Bella” t-shirts. Restaurants, pizzerias and cafes line the perimeter. My advice, do what we did, sit down at one of the restaurants, order drinks, and enjoy some truly entertaining people watching.

“Green Bear” Beer and Prosecco

We ate at a little restaurant called Obika. It wasn’t a tourist trap, though there was some English on the placemats explaining the nuances of mozzarella making, we were surrounded by Italians which is always a good sign. We had an appetizer of fresh mozzarella di bufala, SMOKED mozzarella di bufala, tomatoes, black olives, and foccacia…so simple and so good. I highly recommend the smoked mozzarella di bufala, I didn’t even know it existed. Sorry, I was too busy chewing to take pictures, so you’ll have to use your imagination.

For lunch we had pizza at the same restaurant. This was my first experience with real Roman pizza. Typical pizza in Rome has a cracker thin chewy crust, about 10-12” wide, and is served one per person, no slices. You are also supposed to eat it with a knife and fork, something that still feels very unnatural to us. I had the Pomodori (I think), which is basically fresh tomatoes, buscata cheese, fresh mozzarella, and basil, (I think). It was sooo good, but I could only eat half.

Stop 2: PIAZZA NAVONA

Full of pizza and beer we made the short walk north to Piazza Navona.

Piazza Navona

Unlike the rustic nature of Campo de Fiori, Piazza Navona is much more open, ornate, and generally on a grander scale. The site of an ancient Roman stadium, the piazza gets its long narrow shape (think chariot races) from the original structure. Because the square was the residence of the family of a wealthy Pope in the 1600s, palaces, fountains, and grande churches were erected by Baroque superstars like Bernini and Borromini.

Bernini’s Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi with a real Egyptian obelisk. Borromini’s Sant Agnese in Agone is in the background.

Compared to the chaos in Campo de Fiori and the crowds we were about to encounter at the next two stops, Piazza Navona invites you to wander slowly from one fountain to the next. Between the fountains, artists selling kitschy canvases and street performers try to catch your eye. The shops around the square sell leather goods, treats, clothing, and other various knick-knacks.

But we were just there to admire the architecture and fountains, I’m a huge sucker for a good fountain.

Overall, a perfect place to take a stroll after a long lunch.

Stop 3: THE PANTHEON

From Piazza Navona we headed east for about 5 minutes. The streets are very tangled in this area, but it’s nearly impossible to miss the Pantheon. Just follow the crowd, and if that fails, follow the little brown signs.

The Pantheon

It’s staggering to know that this building is nearly 2000 years old, and narrowly escaped being destroyed by becoming a church sometime in the 600s.

But it was CROWDED. Not that I expected much less, it’s one of the top sites in Europe and it was a Sunday on a fairly nice day in September. So we decided to take 5 and find some gelato. A few of the best are just a block or two away, but I’ll talk about those in another post. Gelato deserves its own post.

After congratulating each other on moving to a country that considers ice cream part of its lifestyle, happy and cooled off we went to battle the crowds.

Interior of the Pantheon

Judging from the dark grey exterior, one wouldn’t necessarily expect the interior to be clad in colorful marble, artwork, tombs, and even a church in the back. It’s obviously not the original interior, that has long been either ransacked or restored. To me though, it’s interesting to see nineteen centuries of artistic interpretation in the same space.

Angel Fresco in Pantheon, a little creepy

But of course, you don’t necessarily come to the Pantheon for the art, you come for the architecture. I personally believe, that once entering, you cannot help but look up.

Looking up at the Pantheon’s Oculus.

Fun fact: the Pantheon’s dome is the world’s largest un-reinforced concrete dome. The Oculus in the center is open, and the only source of light in room. The sloped floor and drains allow rain to drain in the center of the room. I’m told it looks pretty cool when it’s snowing.

Stop 4: FONTANA DI TREVI

Following the crowd we headed east again, about 5-10 minutes to the Fontana di Trevi.

Fontana di Trevi, or part of it.

This is the largest Baroque fountain in Rome, in this tiny square, which is why I couldn’t get a full picture.

Finished in the mid 1600s Taming of the waters is the theme of the fountain with the god Oceanus riding a shell chariot in the center. If you aren’t already familiar with it, you might recognize it from Le Dolce Vita, or Roman Holiday.

Even with the crowds shoving through, teenagers climbing on the outer rocks, and street venders trying to sell you these high pitched whistling gelatin-like toys, so many put up with the chaos to get close to the fountain, it’s beautiful.

Feeling a little claustrophobic, still full from lunch, and ready to escape the humidity of the day, we ended it here, feeling accomplished and luckier than ever.

Little tip: If you have the chance to come out here, try to enjoy the journey as much as the destination. These narrow cobbled streets are adorable, and hold many surprises along the way.

This is hardly the end of our Roman site seeing though, much more to come. Stay tuned.

After the other day’s sad window photo, I thought I would post another one.

We moved into our apartment yesterday and we couldn’t be more thrilled with it. We have space, private restrooms (we didn’t exactly have that in the Dungeon), hundred year old floor tile work, light, and almost every window has a view of our lovely neighborhood. Its quiet by Roman standards, with charming buildings dotted with flower covered balconies and ivy archways. Plus, it’s convenient, we can walk and/or take the bus to just about everything.

Roof laundry drying in the breeze – bonus!

But one of the things that we love best about this place, that we haven’t had in YEARS, is a view of . . . . .

the sunset. Even with rooftops and antennas in the way, it’s still more than we hoped for. Now if we only had our furniture…

Next post will be about some of the touristy things we’ve in up to, promise!